


Shiral

by mostladylikeladythateverladied



Series: Suledin [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2849123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostladylikeladythateverladied/pseuds/mostladylikeladythateverladied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian would think very differently if he were honest with himself. He wasn't brave enough to be honest on his own, but Lavellan seemed to bring it out in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiral

**Author's Note:**

> So, another situation I wanted to be better addressed. This time, it's Dorian's poor word choice.

It was only a matter of time until Dorian stuck his foot in his mouth in regards to his new romantic interest.

Normally, he didn’t have to put a lot of effort into being his usual charismatic and charming self. It came naturally to him. Likewise, he didn’t put much effort into censoring himself. He held nothing back concerning his opinions of some of his new companions, most obviously Vivienne and Blackwall.

But when it came to Aisling he found himself a little more careful with his words, particularly since his clan had been summarily killed off. Dorian didn’t want to disrupt the careful balance Aisling had established in his mental state.

Namely, the balance between his inner and outer selves. Between who he was and who he pretended to be. The Inquisitor had neither time nor the ability to mourn even as Aisling screamed inside.

If there was anything Dorian knew the feeling of well, it was screaming on the inside.

For the first time in his life, he found himself making an effort to have Aisling _like_ him. He’d never had such a problem in Tevinter. People flocked to him due to his status with little input on his part. He never wanted for a warm body in his bed, even if they swiftly left him alone come morning.

He badly wanted this particular warm body to still be there when the sun rose as he had been the night they became intimate, but Dorian wasn’t all that hopeful for it. So, he decided the best course of action would be to hold back the extent of his feelings in order to keep pressure off of the Inquisitor and protect himself from the inevitable fallout.

It had become a careful dance of his words and thoughts attempting to coexist. Thus, foot met mouth.

“He’s not my friend, he’s…!”

The look Aisling shot him could have curdled milk. It certainly curdled his heart. That look told him he’d messed up something awful, and he wasn’t even sure what it was.

“Never mind what he is.” Dorian finished weakly.

The milk-curdling look was cast away from him at the Orlesian he was bargaining with. The poor man visibly flinched. Dorian almost felt pity. Except the merchant was being a royal pain in his ass.

The Inquisitor struck an accord with the merchant, and Dorian tried to storm away after scolding him, but was pursued by Aisling, who gestured to Varric and Cassandra to stay behind and give them space. 

The words came out in rush, as if he were desperate to explain himself. If he were honest with himself, he’d know he _was_ desperate to explain.

“I don’t want to be in your debt, I don’t want to be in _anyone’s_ debt, but _especially_ not yours.”

Aisling gave him nothing but a sorrowful look, which didn’t curdle Dorian’s bitter little heart but did possibly break it.

He marched off in a huff, feeling like a child for doing it, but unable to face Aisling any longer. He felt a strange mix of anger and adoration for the infuriating little elf. He couldn’t comprehend his intentions beyond making Dorian be in his debt, an unenviable position.

Not only because he was the Inquisitor and could demand a motley variety of dangerous and terrible things of him, and had the authority to punish him if he sought to escape his debt, but because of their budding relationship.

Debt wasn’t a desirable tie between them, not like...like sex was.

The other word that annoyingly popped into his head first hadn’t been a part of his vocabulary for a very long time, and he didn’t dare to hope it would have anything to do with him and Aisling. If he were honest with himself, he’d know he was already hoping.

Sex was easy and he was good at it, the _other thing_ was a danger he wouldn’t expose himself to.

He found his way back to Skyhold before the others and sequestered himself in the library as he always did, waiting for Aisling to come find him as _he_ always did.

He didn’t appear for two more weeks. According to Leliana they’d decided to stop in the Exalted Plain to take care of some undead.

Undead were a specialty of his. He couldn’t help the flash of hurt at the thought that he hadn’t been asked to join them. Which was ridiculous because he was the one that walked away.

Dorian spent dawn to dusk in that library, waiting for word that the party had arrived in Skyhold, which he planned to respond to by not budging an inch and possibly preening his hair, which was for his own benefit and certainly not to look his best for Aisling.

The elf mage made his appearance while Dorian was leaning over the railing of the library, contemplating how he would apologize for his misstep. It was a subject that had remained in his mind for a long two weeks.

To his surprise, Aisling didn’t scold him for his poor choice of words, but only returned his amulet with a proud smile.

Dorian had been poised to return to his reading, figuring he was forgiven, when a quiet voice inquired,

“Are you…still angry with me?”

Dorian turned to Aisling in surprise. He thought Dorian was put out with him? After the glare he’d received in Val Royeaux, Dorian figured Aisling had had enough of _him_.

“I was never angry with you, not really. Let me explain myself.”

Aisling nodded and leaned comfortably against one of the wooden support beams, as he often did during their little talks.

“I’ve never made my relationships public. You know why. What I said in the market was too close to a public declaration of our…intimacy than I was comfortable with. I nearly said we were more than friends. I tried to correct my words and made things worse, and I apologize for it.”

The look Aisling shot him beget a very different than the one he’d had in the market. This look was so full of fondness that Dorian’s heart swelled at the sight of it.

“I want us to be more than friends Dorian, but I want us to be friends too. I want us to talk and laugh together. But I also want to fall asleep in your arms and do…what we did that night again.” Aisling looked down, suddenly attractively bashful. “Does that make sense?”

Dorian smiled at the silly elf, and said, “It makes perfect sense. It makes a lot more sense than most of the things I say, and I’m a wordsmith on par with Varric.”

Aisling laughed, loud and long, the exact reaction he had been hoping for.

“Come on, I have a bottle of brandy waiting to be opened. You haven’t known ecstasy until you make love after drinking the stuff.”


End file.
